Shades of Grey
by teaandcharcoalforbreakfast
Summary: It all starts with a simple post-coital question: "So, Karkat, you still have that crush on John?" As if a relationship between /two/ guys wasn't messy enough. Trans!Dave-verse. Davekat, eventual johndavekat, sex.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: **So I wrote my first trans!dave fic with just Karkat, and then my second one had John in it. I figured I'd best explain how to get from point a to point b.  
With a little three-way sex along the way.

* * *

"So, Karkat, you still have that crush on John?"

You startle when Dave asks that. Your post-coital conversations tend towards the unusual, sure, but rarely this early and never this serious. Your forehead is still slick with sweat, and you still feel echoes of his bulge inside of you. Fuck, his bulge is probably still warm in the drawer, and he suddenly asks about infidelity?

Oh shit, it's one of those nights again, isn't it? Post-orgasm freak outs are the most dangerous. They're not like the normal panic attacks, and even less like the sex-time panic attacks. They bring a quiet kind of self-loathing, the kind that won't be drowned out for days.

You wrap your arms around his middle – neutral territory, nothing to trigger an even worse reaction – and pull him close to you. He's on his back and you're on your side so it's an awkward hug. He rolls so he's looking away, but that just means you can tighten your grip and make him your little spoon.

"Dave, I love you. You know that."

"Yeah, but that's not answering the question."

Evasive maneuver seventeen unsuccessful. "When I say love I mean it, Dave. It's not pity. I know you still check out at the word 'quadrant.' I wouldn't fucking be with you if I didn't get that."

"I know. Just like I know you're actually not that into the quadrant thing either. But chill, this isn't a jealousy thing. I'm not accusing you of shit. It's kind of… the other way around."

"Dave, you didn't."

"No! Hell no. Give me some credit, man. It's just that when all this shit ended and everyone paired off he got left in the dust. The poor guy's lonely, and he's always been kind of special to me. You can say no and nothing'll happen. I don't wanna fuck up what we already have going."

You sigh, "Yes."

"Really?"

"To the still liking him thing. He's attractive but I don't hate him because, like we talked about before, my hate gland is fucked up. I'm not sure about this, though. If we have sex, even if you're there too, I might end up having mating fondness for both of you and it would be messy."

"Actually, that's closer to what I was thinking of."

"I thought you didn't do poly?"

"I don't do people who have other people on the side. This wouldn't be like that. This would be all three of us."

"Is that…" you peer over his shoulder. "Is that a thing you people do?"

He looks up at you. "Sometimes."

"Doesn't John not like men?"

"Nah."

"But he told me-"

"He told you something a long time ago. When just about all he knew of life was white bread, suburbia, and a fairly conservative dad. He didn't learn that there was anything other than straight or gay until he was seventeen."

"So what is he, then?"

"Eh… both and neither. It's kinda complicated. Still not really sure. Then again, the last time we talked about it neither was he."

"Alright, so what are we gonna do?"

"No idea."

"Dave!"

"I really didn't think I'd get this far."

You roll your eyes, "Idiot. What did you expect me to do?"

"A triple summersault followed by a back flip straight into top-blowing city and have a disturbing combination of kittens and cows."

"Is your opinion of me really that shitty?"

"Nah. Just bracing myself because after the last real heart-to-heart we had in bed you burst into tears and I walked around with pink hair for days."

"God, I hate you."

"Love you too, Karkles."

"Ugh. Get your bulge back out of the drawer and choke on it."

"Sure, whatever."

You let go of him and roll away with a huff.

A moment later his hands are around your chest and he's pressing up against you. "I mean it, though. You're the best, Karkat." He kisses your ear softly.

"Shut the fuck up and go to sleep," you say, but there's no bite left in your tone. You caress his hand gently and he puts his face right in the crook of your neck.

You hope this won't be as bad of an idea as it sounds.


	2. Chapter 2

It's a nice day out. The sun is bright in the sky, it's just warm enough to be outside without sweating or shivering, and there's a pleasant breeze that wasn't even your doing. So, of course, they asked you to work in the ectolab instead of exploring with Jake. Nobody cares about the buddy system anymore.

At least they're leaving the windows open. And it's kinda nice to spend some time with Dave and Karkat. You've missed those guys. Ever since they started going out it's been hard. As though trying to figure out this new universe thing wasn't hard enough, you have to feel like a goddamn third wheel with your best two buds. God you'd missed them.

With the three of you and Kanaya working together you manage to make some serious progress in breeding birds (Dave was pretty obviously excited about it. His pokerface was failing pretty badly). By lunchtime you have finished few different kinds of wrens and sparrows (some of them have poison talons, because Karkat swears that was common on Alternia). You decide to try to cook something for them, since you were mostly there for help with aerodynamics and you're actually not too bad in the kitchen (especially since you're just making grilled cheese and tomato soup).

You have the sandwiches sizzling on the griddle when you hear someone approaching. When you turn you see Dave standing nonchalantly in the doorway.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi," you reply. "What's up? You guys need me again?"

"Nah. I had a question for you."

"Sure."

"You wanna go out?"

"Go out where?"

He laughs. "I don't mean like that. I mean go _out."_

"Did something happen between you and Karkat?"

"Nope."

You furrow your brow, "Dave, that's not like you."

"I know. We're trying something new here."

"We?" You ask.

"Goddammit, Dave!" Karkat comes down the hall, "I thought you were going to wait for me!"

"I was, but then you spent five minutes talking to Kanaya about the new rainbow drinker novel she's trying to write."

"Guys, what's going on here?"

"Like I said," Dave replies with a shrug, "We're trying something new and asking you out."

"Can… can you do that?"

"Why the fuck not?" Karkat asks. "We both like you and it's our relationship. So if you're interested in us…"

"I'm- can I think about it?" you ask. "I wasn't really expecting this."

"Yeah, sure," Dave says. "Take your time. Offer's open until we say it isn't."

"And we probably won't," Karkat adds.

Dave actually manages to do a cool sort of gesturey thing and then the two of them leave you staring at the air and wondering what kind of doomed timeline you've ended up in. When you start working again it's hard to keep your eyes off of them. You've thought about them before, during those long lonely years when you were questioning everything about yourself.

You can't deny that you're curious what their bodies look like. And they're your best friends. Where are you supposed to draw the line? You do love them, but you love everyone in your little party. This would be so much easier if you felt romantic or even physical attraction.

What would it be like to kiss them? Their lips are both chapped as fuck, and their breath would be hot and damp and uncomfortable on your face. But would the closeness be worth it? You like the friendly snuggles you've shared with them. It's so warm, so safe. And they've felt so good pressed against you for brief hugs. They're both so solid, Dave with his soft weight and Karkat with sinewy muscle. It would be fun to hold them for a little longer.

But they'll want sex, won't they? You tell yourself you'd be able to do it. You jerk off sometimes, after all. And if you look at it from the "more intimate snuggling" angle it should be fine. How much will that help, though, once everyone's clothes hit the floor?

You can imagine them doing it. You picture it as you type out new gene sequences to alter the feathers just a little bit. It should be dirty, but it's really not. It's like poetry or dance when they move together. Their bodies are so different. You can sort of extrapolate from your contact and the way their clothes sit on their frames, but you're probably a little off in the execution (especially on Karkat. Trolls are still weird to you). They've kissed in front of you, so you just add a little more passion, a little more urgency as white skin rubs against gray. You watch their faces in your mind's eye. They're both so passionate in every day life, you wonder what it's like when they lose themselves to each other and to their love. They kiss, they lick, they gasp, they even exchange a few nips. You see matching red eyes in profile as they stare into each other's souls.

Then you try to step in. You try to reach out and touch. Your hands make contact with their shoulders. They're warm and slick with sweat, but as soon as you make contact they melt away. Of course it does; you can never put yourself in sexual situations.

Instead you change the image. The three of you lie together on the roof of their house. You're between them, looking up at the stars. Then you feel fingers threading through yours. You don't turn away from the sky, but you squeeze back.

It's warm.

In the real world you're smiling.

"Had fun with the hummingbirds?" Karkat asks you at the end of the day.

"It's nice to do something new, you know?"

Dave gives you a sidelong look with a hint of a smile.

Kanaya is more organized than the rest of you. She's already gathered her things. She leaves, shutting the door behind her with a click.

You swallow. "Okay."

"Okay what?" Karkat asks.

"Let's… let's try this. Let's try us."

"Really? I didn't think you'd go for it."

"Haha, yes! You owe me a blowjob!"

You decide to ignore Dave. "Sure, why not? Just once to see if it works." Dave hasn't said anything else, so you look over to him. "As long as if it ends up not really working we can go back to being friends with no hurt feelings."

Dave smiles for real and slaps you on the back. "We'll pick you up tomorrow at eight." And with that he's gone.

"Don't look so fucking worried," Karkat says. "There are three-wheel devices too, you know."

"Thanks."

Karkat brushes his fingers over your hand. "Seriously, man, relax. It's nothing to lose your head about."

"I know."

"Right. He gives you a quick smile and then heads out, following his boyfriend.

You sit down and start losing your head about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: **Sorry I'm so late! Between midterms and having a boyfriend now I haven't had as much time to write about the boys. Thanks to the anon on tumblr who helped me get out of my funk. You know who you are.

* * *

"Oh my fucking god, Dave, will you stop messing up and combing your hair over and over?"

"There is a delicate balance between looking like you really don't care and looking like you _really _don't care, okay Karkles?"

"It's _John. _He's known you for, what, eight years now? Nine? I feel like his first impression is pretty well made."

"Yeah, well at least I'm not putting on makeup."

"A: that took thirty seconds. B: there's nothing wrong with wanting to look a little better than usual for a date. C: you're being culturally insensitive as fuck. You _know_ all trolls used cosmetics on Alternia, and it's not like I went the fuck of the deep end."

"Dude, you're wearing eyeliner."

"There is _nothing _wrong with eyeliner!"

"It's hella gay."

"Dave, I don't know if you realize this, but we had our bulges in each other's nooks last night. _We're _hella gay."

"Well, okay, you have a point there."

You smooth down your shirt and give Dave a superior sort of look. He rolls his eyes and goes back to fussing with his hair. You might be playing your cool a little better for once but you're nervous too and he knows it. The difference is that you get yours out by arguing whereas he gets his out by preening. You already know you look as good as you're ever going to, and there's no arguing with hair as curly as yours so you've given up at this point.

Of course, now you're also staring in the mirror and wondering what John will think. You suddenly can't remember if he's ever seen you without your big fluffy sweater on. You tell yourself that he must have over the sweeps (the humans may have made you change your vernacular to match the new timekeeping in this universe, but they can't touch inside your head), but you can't seem to remember a specific time.

Well, he will now if nothing else. You're wearing a nice button down shirt, black with your sign embroidered on the pocket, and a bright blue tie. _His _blue. It doesn't quite look right against the black, but Kanaya has an eye for color and she wouldn't allow you to fuck up by wearing the wrong blue (she did, after all, find the perfect red shirt for you to wear on your first date with Dave). Dave more or less matches, but instead of actually buttoning his shirt it hangs open to show off the bright blue tee he's wearing underneath.

Looking down you realize he's wearing gray shoes, much more obvious than your red socks and undershirt. You suddenly feel better about this whole thing. Even if this date is a total flop, he's still your mate-rail-mesis-boyfriend-thing and it won't change that. Then you glance at the clock.

"Holy shit, we're late!"

"Nah."

"Dave, it is 8:35."

"Going back half an hour isn't exactly gonna doom the timeline."

"But shouldn't we have noticed?"

"We did it while you were in the bathroom. We still have two minutes, 12 seconds, and 6 milliseconds starting now."

"Shit that's specific."

"That's how we keep dead Daves from piling up."

"Right."

He lowers his hands and turns to you.

"Okay, I think I'm good. How do I look?"

"Haven't you been standing in the mirror long enough to figure that out?"

"I'm asking for a second opinion."

"You're fine, Dave."

"Do I… do I look normal enough?"

You pause, lift a hand and brush back his bangs. You were kind of expecting him to wince, but he doesn't. This is too serious, you suppose. "Dave, you look great. You are great. You're manly as fuck and don't forget it."

"Thanks, man."

"Just don't try comparing yourself to John, because we're all still astounded by his and Jake's miraculous transformations from wriggler-faced children to fur-beasts."

"True that."

He gets onto his tiptoes just as you lean down to kiss him and you end up smacking your nose right into his teeth. You decide to cut your losses and just go.

Dave being Dave, you get to John's hive at exactly 8. When he opens the door you're happy to see he's dressed up too. The colors aren't quite the right shade, Dave's red a little too rusty and your gray a little too black, but you're not too mad because it means he must have done it all by himself.

"Hey guys!" he says, all smiles and bright eyes.

His teeth are big and crooked and oh so white. You can pretty much see the old-fashioned glossy blur around him. You want to swoon, but Dave puts his hand around your waist and keeps you grounded.

"Hey yourself," Dave says.

"So where are we heading?" John asks.

"No idea," You reply, "Apparently Dave has a plan."

"That I do. Hold onto your asses."

You recognize the subtle shift, that little twinge in your gut that comes with time travel. John, apparently does not. He doesn't even seem to notice the fact that his hive is gone.

"Okay," Dave says.

"What?" John asks.

"Just look up."

You do as Dave says and your eyes go wide. The sky dances, colors whirling as the cosmos rearrange themselves.

"Where are we?" You ask.

"Same spot, a few minutes before we entered the new universe." Dave sits on the ground and stares at the sky. "When the croak happens there's like a factory default, but when we get our prize everything rearranges itself for us. Just watch."

John plops down next to him and you soon follow. None of you say a thing as you watch. Slowly, patterns begin to emerge. The wild waves that had rocked the heavens settle. The bright pinks, greens, purples, and oranges begin to fade to blue. Intentionality begins to take hold, and you see the very beginnings of your singular white moon and the eight constellations that mark this world's seasons. Far-off galaxies swirl into shape. Rings gather on some of the nearby planets.

You lie there for what must be hours. Even after the sky settles it's just so clear and beautiful that none of you want to take your eyes off of it. Eventually the three of you end up laying down, you and John both have your heads on Dave's chest and he's gently petting the both of you.

Words begin to creep back in. Conversations never seem to be frivolous in the dark and this is no exception.

"What's gonna happen to religion if we're still around?" John asks.

"I haven't really thought about it," you admit. "I was never really into that kind of shit."

"It's different for you, though," Dave says. "You were told your whole life you would bring about the end of the world."

"True," you say. "They weren't exactly wrong, though."

"What if people want answers from us?" John asks, "What if they need purpose or motivation? We don't know anything."

"We can just tell them not to be dicks and find their own meaning in life," Dave says. "I just hope they don't all try to emulate us, or we'll have one fucked up hedonistic society."

"Oh come on, we're not _that_ bad," John says.

"You used your windy powers to TP our hive," You reply, "Three times."

"Yeah, but I helped you clean up."

You shift just a little so your heads bump together and he laughs. God he's got a great laugh, and unlike Dave he doesn't try to hide it.

"Still, though," he says, "I really do have to wonder about the future sometimes."

"We're not popping ahead. Oh my god does it take the fun out of things."

"I never really thought I'd have enough of a future to worry about," you admit. "I mean, I was always so sure that I'd get culled the day my irises started filling in. And then I thought the game would kill me for sure. Now I'm staring eternity in the face and I still can't really believe it."

John looks at you sympathetically and you just turn away. You feel a hand on one of your horns, too small and familiar to be John's.

You begin to hear animals. Familiar insects and owls and, of course, frogs. John asks about life on Alternia and you tell him. You tell him every detail, all of your bloody and wonderful memories, the exquisite cruelty of your race and how you kind of miss it even after all they did to you.

He asks about what they taught you, what they didn't teach you. Eventually he thinks to ask you more about your ancestor, and you're honest. If he wants to be on an even field with Dave he should probably know. So you tell him about the dreams you had since you pupated, about the troll who told you about your destiny, who hinted at the game to come, who gave you the weapons and the knowledge you needed to survive. You're pretty sure that's what they meant by 'knight of blood,' arming yourself with what bonds you could muster. You tell him that's why you hated Kankri so much, he was a mockery of the troll who'd saved your ass since the day you'd hatched.

"Do you think you'd like to live on his Alternia?" To your surprise, it's not John but Dave who asks.

You look up at him, and he's tilted his head down to look at you.

"A world that can still be kinda violent, but without everything being decided by blood and where adults still got to stay on-planet," he clarifies.

You turn your eyes back to the sky. "Kinda," you admit. "Not being culled while still being a badass would be kinda nice."

"You're already pretty badass, I think," John says.

You're not blushing. Who says you're blushing?

"You ever miss him?" John asks after a moment.

"Not really. I still dream about him sometimes."

"That must be nice."

"Yeah. I mean, it happens less and less often as I get older. I guess I just don't need him as much."

"Ah."

"It's okay," Dave says. "You can still miss your dad." He pauses for a minute. "I mean, I miss Bro."

"I thought you were too cool for that," John says jokingly.

"Are you crazy?" You ask, "Dave is about as cool as LOHAC."

"What Karkat's clearly alluding to is my undeniable hotness."

"Sure, Dave."

"Seriously, though. He was like the coolest guy ever. How could I not miss him? Besides, he still owes me like eight years worth of testosterone and surgery."

John laughs again, but you don't miss the way he grabs Dave's hand and squeezes it softly.

"Could they have picked a more fucked up bunch people to rule a universe?" You ask.

"Yeah," John says without a hint of doubt, "I feel like for all we've seen we turned out pretty okay."

"Do you really believe that?" You ask.

"I do."

You actually roll onto your belly so you can get a better look at him. Pinks and oranges are beginning to dot the eastern horizon, and the light reflects beautifully on John's dark skin. You feel the sudden urge to kiss him, but it's like there's an invisible wall between you. So instead you content yourself with watching the sunrise and what it does to him. Dave's doing the same thing. You've stayed up all night with each other before, but with another person it's a brand new experience. For his part, John just watches the sky as it changes with a far-off sort of content look on his face. Together you watch the first sunrise a second time.

"So," Dave says, "what time do you want to get home?"

"Is it time to go already?" John asks.

"Yeah. Past us are going to go exploring soon."

"Oh. Uh... can we keep it in real time? I feel like that'll make it easier for me to keep track of."

"Sure thing."

Dave stands, making you and John get to your feet. This time the shift and the twinge go the other way and you're back on John's doorstep, though the light hasn't changed.

"So, uh," John says, "I guess that's it?"

"Yep. Have fun?" Dave asks. His calm tone probably isn't even fooling John.

"I did. So… wanna do this again sometime?"

"I'm in," Dave says.

"I suppose I can put up with you one more night," you say about as convincingly as Dave.

John's looking back and forth between the two of you uncertainly.

"What's up?" You ask.

"I- Well, a kiss is pretty standard for the first date, but I don't know who to…"

You push Dave forward. "Go on, asshole. It was your idea. Besides, it'll be funny to see you stretch."

Dave smiles and rolls his eyes. Normally he goes up on his tiptoes for you, but he doesn't move other than to tip his head up. Instead John leans down and, wow, they're being chaste as fuck so why is it so hot? They pull apart after about a second and a half and John motions for you to come over.

He's different from Dave. His lips are thicker and softer. You already knew that he smelled different, but with your nose practically against his skin it's even more obvious. And now he smells a little like you and Dave, which makes it even sweeter. His nose is bigger than Dave's so you have to angle your head a little differently and the shape of it means that you feel more of his breath on your face, but even that's attractive for some reason.

You pull away and feel the same gut reaction to him you did when you were six. Holy hell do you want him in one of your quadrants. You're pretty sure there's plenty of room for him in this big wonky one you share with Dave.

"Well," he says, "I'll see you guys later, then."

"Yeah, later."

"See you around," you say.

John turns around to reopen the door. Suddenly your eyes can't seem to leave his butt. It's pretty flat, but still kinda nice. And those pants fit him really well. Really, really, well… He enters his hive, closing the door behind him.

"Dave."

"Yeah?"

"When we get home you're fucking the shit out of me."

"I was just about to say the same thing."

You're really glad you already have one partner to get your sexual frustrations out on.


	4. Chapter 4

You're barely in the door when you're shoving Dave against it and kissing him. Neither of you hold back. He breathes hard in your ear and the kiss is sloppy and wet enough that you feel spit getting onto your cheeks and chin and you're not even sure whose it is. You shift your body over to get a little bit of friction on Dave's hip, but it's hard because he's tipped both of them up so he can get your thigh between his legs.

His packer's slipped a little bit out of place and now it's getting in his way. You just laugh at him as he makes little frustrated noises because he's got a solid inch of rubber between his crotch and your body. It's hard to tell, but from the one eye you can see it looks like he's glaring at you over his shades. His tongue retracts slightly and you follow it, only for him to bite.

It's not hard enough to make you bleed or even to really hurt, but you see black. Your ears tip downwards and your purr turns into a growl. Without thinking you take his lower lip in your mouth and bite back.

"Ah! Fuck!"

You pull back in concern. That was on the fine line between a good shout and a bad one. He touches his fingers to his lips and they come away with a hint of red. He looks at them for a moment. You open your mouth to apologize, but then he grins.

"You're gonna fucking pay for that."

He shoves you away and then grabs you by the hair before you can react. You snarl at him but he's holding on too tightly to attempt to escape. He pulls your head to the side and undoes your tie to get at your neck. You feel his flat teeth on your skin and groan. Your knees feel weak as he leaves his mark on you. It doesn't help that he's rubbing the base of your horn with his thumb.

Any proper kismesis would have left you for getting caught so quickly. Luckily, Dave isn't a proper kismesis. He's an unnatural blur of everything and, fuck it all, you love this. When he pulls away you know there's a big red mark forming.

"You gonna be a good little bitch now?" he asks.

"Yes," you reply even though you both know it's probably not true.

"Good." He lets go of your hair. "Bedroom. Now."

You really should tackle him then. It would be easy when his guard was down to pin him, to get his clothes off, and to fuck him right then and there. But then he wouldn't have his proper bulge and without that you can't even do blackrom the right way. So instead you follow like a barkbeast. As soon as you get close to the bed he's suddenly behind you. His hands deftly undo your pants and the buttons on your shirt.

"Oh man, can't wait to see you on my dick," he whispers in your ear.

You snarl, but then his hands are off your waist and one's around your neck while the other's holding your hair. Your pants fall to the ground.

"Come on, Karkles. Do you _really_ need another mark to remind you who's topping tonight? I can put this one higher if you like, so every time you look in the mirror you remember you lost to a squishy, pathetic human half a foot shorter than you."

Your voice dims to a growl.

"'S what I thought. Get on the bed and take your underwear off."

You growl but do so. You reach for your undershirt, but he stops you. "Don't. I like that color on you. Brings out your pretty eyes. Now stay."

It's pathetic to sit there kneeling, wearing your partner's color and your flushed sheath bared for the world to see. But you don't move. Instead you watch as he drops his own clothes. He doesn't offer to do the same favor you paid him and takes his socks off too so that he's naked except for his binder. At least you can take some comfort in the fact that he still has a lovely pair of bruises the exact shape of your hands on his hips. You get a really good look at then when he breezes past you to get to the bedside table so he can switch out his smaller, softer bulge for a nice hard one.

Shit, he's getting the really big one out. It doesn't fit nicely into your nook even with a lot of preparation. For the sake of your internal organs, you pray that he just picked it for symbolic purposes and/or the fact that it's got the little attachment that slips under the harness to stimulate his real bulge, permanently sheathed as it may be.

It looks odd where it hangs between his legs, thick and stiff and a red too bright to be natural. But you like the way that he stands when he has it out, a little taller, a little prouder. He straddles your thighs and grabs your chin.

"Say you're mine," he growls.

"Just fucking get it over with."

He lets you go and pulls away. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure? You don't sound very eager."

You roll your eyes. "Ever heard of role play?"

"Right, okay." His expression softens.

"Fuck, Dave, you're almost as thick as Egbert."

"Ow, that hurts. As long as you think I'm almost as sexy as him too."

"Don't worry, you're every bit as hot." You put your hands on his cheeks and kiss him slowly and sweetly.

When the two of you break apart Dave laughs. "Even mentioning the dork ruins kinky time, doesn't it?"

"We don't know that for sure."

"Right." He kisses the side of your neck. "You're just saying that because it was hate at first sight."

"Mmm… maybe."

One of his hands rubs your thigh. "So I think I might have accidentally killed that other mood. Wanna make a new one?"

"Well that would be the logical fucking choice of action."

You pet his sides from the hem of his binder down to his hips. He groans softly and eases you backward onto the bed. When you spread your legs he takes a moment to stare. You always feel kind of awkward because it's the one time you're never able to see through his poker-face. You want to hide, to close your legs and cover yourself but you don't.

After a moment he smiles just a little bit and lies on your chest. You remove his shades and set them on the bedside table. Now that he's close enough to see you, you want to see him too. He rolls his hips and his bulge presses down against your sheath. With a whine you swing right open.

Your bulge juts out to wrap around his.

"Jeez, give me a chance to turn it on."

"You should have started sooner."

"Yeah, well… Oh, hey guys."

Your bulge, of course, has decided to pay with his fingers instead. You try to stop it, but the damn thing just never does what you want it to. Dave starts laughing.

"Oh my fucking God, stop petting it!"

"Sure, as soon as you stop purring."

Somehow one of the tendrils of your bulge manages to nudge the dial on Dave's bulge, putting it on low.

"Ah, shit-! Karkat!"

"Hnn- Now you gonna stop petting?"

"Yeah. So I can do… this." He slips his hand a little further back and slips two fingers into your nook.

"Ah! John!"

"Oh, should I be jealous? Rather have Mr. Long-Fingers down here?"

"What? Oh shit. Look, it happens!"

"If I say his name when I come you can't be pissed now."

"Where you- un- were you planning on it?"

"Oh, that's a new noise. I like that one. What else you holding back, Karkles?"

"Barely concealed rage."

His laugh makes his bulge twitch oddly, but hell if you don't like it. You wrap your legs around his hips and he begins to rut down against you.

"Fuck, Dave!"

"'S what I'm doin'."

"At least I fucking said the right name this time."

"Yeah, whatever." He bites your shoulder and you keen.

You have no fucking idea what color you're supposed to be right now. His bulge and his teeth say black, but his fingers and his vocalizations say red, and his eyes are saying _pale _of all things. He resettles his weight a little bit so that he can reach up and start touching your horns. It's just affectionate, not sexual or even sensual. Your bloodpusher is racing, pumping around an variable cocktail of contradicting hormones.

It's hard to breathe. Your diaphragm doesn't want to work with you, possibly because your thinkpan is too busy trying to sort everything out. You will yourself to just accept it, to not worry about the quadrants and just enjoy the nearly overwhelming sensations Dave's giving you.

"Let me please you." Oh god, could you have said something more third-rate porno? He's going to give you shit.

But instead he just says, "Oh, babe, you already are."

"Fuck, you'd better get off to this."

"Oh I _am!" _

Your fine motor control is too unreliable to attempt touching his nook, so instead you kind of end up messily petting his hair. He's saying something, but when he's coming apart his accent gets thick and he starts talking _way _too fast and he's directing most of his words into your rumble spheres anyway so your shirt absorbs most of the sound. Not that you care much. Your bulge is wrapping as tightly as it can around his. You feel the genetic material welling up inside of you, pressure mounting steadily. Your nook's not fairing any better. You've pulled his fingers down to their base but it's still not enough.

Why the fuck didn't you make him grab the bulge he can actually fuck you with?

You realize not long thereafter because if he did there's no way in hell you wouldn't have come already. Because holy _shit. _

Dave inhales sharply and starts to shudder. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. As goofy as it is, you still love his orgasm face. He grips you tightly, and on your horn it hurts slightly because his nails are digging into sensitive skin. With his other hand he's pressing up against your seedflap and it takes all you have not to spill all over the bed.

"Dave! Bucket!" You shout.

He looks up at you, eyes bleary, but it only takes him a split second to react. First he pulls away from you. His movement is jarring and somewhat painful, which helps you keep your material in. He helps you onto your knees and the bucket slips between your thighs. One arm wraps around your waist and the other reaches between your legs. Your bulge wraps happily around his wrist and his fingers press back up and in.

"It's okay," he whispers in your ear. "You can come."

You try, you really do, but for some reason the gates won't open. Still, the pressure mounts and it starts to get painful.

"I can't." You squeak out.

"Ssh, yes you can. Come on, babe. I know you've got so much in you. Just relax."

You whine, you rut against him, but you just won't… Then he kisses you. For a moment you're taken aback, but then you relax into the kiss. You hear the sound of your genetic material hitting the pail before you start to feel the relief. But when you do it hits you all at once.

Your legs shake, you lose your breath. If Dave wasn't holding you you would have collapsed by now. But he is, and you start to feel as though your internal organs have all liquefied and are streaming out of your bulge. He's murmuring in your ear, but you neither know nor care what is actually coming out of his mouth other than the soft, sweet tone.

When you finish, he peels off your sweat-soaked shirt and carefully eases you back down onto the bed. You lie there dazed for a minute, just watching. He gets out of bed, straightens up, and stretches. Fucking humans and their fucking ability to get up right after sex. He kisses your forehead and then he's gone. You hear water running and you know he's rinsing out the bucket and probably wiping down his toys and his actual genitals. You remember, amused, how angry he was the time you grabbed him before he could run off and he started whining about how he felt slimy and gross. Well, so do you but you're not complaining.

Eventually he comes back, washcloth in hand. You purr as he runs it over your thighs and your still-sensitive sheath. When he's satisfied with his handiwork, he tosses the cloth into the laundry bin and slides back into bed next to you. Now you can take him and make him your little spoon.

"So," he says, "What did you think?"

"You're fucking amazing."

"I meant about the date, not the sex."

"You're fucking amazing."

"Do you think John liked it?"

"Dave, I don't know if you realize this, but John is worse at keeping his feelings to himself than I am."

"I guess…"

"Hey, don't worry about it."

"But it's _John. _And I just… I really want him to like us."

"So do I. But no matter what happens…" You kiss the back of his neck. "You still have me."

He caresses the hand you've got on his middle. "Thanks, man. You're pretty cool, you know that, right?"

"I love you too."

For a moment you let yourself just lie there and listen to his breathing and feel his belly expand and contract with each breath. It's nice. Just like feeling the beating of his heart and the heat of his skin, sometimes you just like the reminder that the man you love is alive and well.

"Sorry I'm so shitty at pillow talk today," He says. "I'm tired."

"It's fine. I'm on the same flotation device."

That's the last thing you say before you wake up the next morning to the smell of eggs, sausages, and fresh coffee.


End file.
